Fish Wrangler

Robby's Nana gave him the greatest present ever last week. After dropping me off at the airport, she and Robby went directly to the sporting goods store where she bought him his very own, "big boy" fishing pole.

He apparently spent countless hours fishing off her back deck. According to my mom, he only stopped to get a snack or to get the fishing line untangled. I suspect that her gift had an ulterior motive of keeping him occupied in my absence. It certainly worked!

On the way back to Virginia on Sunday I remembered that the beloved Animal Park opened for the year. Robby and I have been going to this little zoo since he was one year old, and it is one of our favorite places. We both miss going when it is closed for the winter.

I told Robby that I had a secret but that I wasn't going to tell him what it was. I called Scott who packed a picnic and met us. Robby was beyond excited when I turned into the zoo. He began clapping his hands and screamed "Hooray! Spring has sprung in Virginia. Now let's get going to see those animals."

After petting his favorite little goat friend, we headed down to the pond. We talked about how he can bring his new fishing pole for the fishing derby this year, and Robby is convinced that he is going to catch a "ginormous cat fish."

Down at the pond we started chumming the water with cat food (which was stashed in my purse). The fish (carp) were swimming everywhere, extremely close to the shore. So close, in fact, that Scott told Robby to reach down and try to catch one with his bare hands.

I wanted to kick Scott for telling our little fisherman to try to wrangle a fish! I knew that we were destined to spend hours down by the pond as Robby tried to grab a fish. Two hours and a box of cat food later, Robby was not able to catch a fish. He got a good grip a few times, but the fish wiggled out of his hands.

I was hoping that he would forget about Daddy's suggestion of catching a fish with his hands. Those hopes were dashed this afternoon when I heard him talking to his fishing pole as he was practicing casting. I overheard him say, "Charlie (the name he has also given to his fishing pole as well as his cat), I will take you to the fishing derby at the Animal Park. I will put you on the picnic table so that you can watch and I will reach into the water and grab that fishy with my bare hands. I am strong and he won't wiggle through my fingers this time."